Discovering the Stars
by xLintux
Summary: The Exile, haunted by Kreia's dying words, follows Revan to the unknown regions in search of Revan and the mysterious threat fixed on the galaxy. Only, the crew of the Ebon Hawk aren't too happy about being left behind. ExileAtton pairing.
1. Prologue: Going nowhere

**Disclaimer-** -sigh- alas, I have no beard, therefore, I do not own Star Wars. Pity, really. I'd love to be rich.

**Notes-** Weee This is a post-KOTOR II FanFic, following a Light Side Female Exile by the name of Alyia. Enjoy o Oh, and the romantic interest is Atton D bless his cotton socks. We'll be meeting Revan later on in the FanFic, as well as the threat that is endangering the galaxy O! Again…

**Prologue – Going Nowhere**

I hate the way that you've taken back  
Everything you've given to me  
And the way that you'd always say  
It's nothing to do with me  
Different versions of many men  
Come before you came  
All their questions was similar  
The answers just the same  
**"Going Nowhere" lyrics c to Oasis**

_The Ebon Hawk, the cockpit_

All was silent aboard the torn, battered shell of the infamous Ebon Hawk as it drifted quietly through the dark vacuum of space. The modified light freighter was clearly failing; the dual turbo lasers had been torn from its hull, wire mesh had been revealed beneath the recently gashed cover of the left wing and the port engine was failing, spluttering in protest as its life winked out. As it did so, the ship gave a sickening lurch and dropped a little further down into the blackness of space, moving slowly forwards with all the speed of a snail… Behind it, a planets core burned violently against the darkness of space before it imploded outwards, the plant collapsing on itself, sending meteor-sized chunks of earth and ship debris spinning out into its surroundings until they were lost from sight.

Malachor V had, at last, been laid to rest.

The Ebon Hawk slowly, gradually, painfully curved to the left, backtracking its progress towards the Core systems, whining in protest at the effort. The ship itself was too far away to be affected by the powerful wave that was the aftermath of Malachor V's destruction, which was just as well, as the smugglers vessel would no doubt suffer the technical equivalent of an apoplexy after all it had just endured.

It was said to be a haunted vessel- it had a curse upon it, or so whispers in dark bars said, one that no-one knew how to lift. Any crew that took over it was destined to be involved in some dangerous situation or another, often ones that affected the fate of the galaxy, and this crew was no different… Five of the crew were currently sleeping, two were recharging their tired batteries and the eighth… well, the eighth member of this particular crew could not sleep. He sat in the cockpit, gently easing the exhausted ship through the star-filled blackness that stretched as far as the eye could see, his weary gaze fixed on some unknown point in the distance, his mind a turmoil of thoughts. For once, even Pazaak could not penetrate Atton Rand's mind.

Ever since they'd dragged the Exile back on board, barely escaping the planet after the Mass Shadow Generator had been activated, she'd been sleeping rough, moaning and screaming as she tossed about in her unseen nightmares. Visas and Mira had tried to calm her down, but she'd actually Force thrown Mira halfway across the room when the girl got too near, even whilst she was still unconscious. Eventually, they two Jedi had decided to try and sleep themselves, considering how exhausted they were, intending to meditate on the problem once they were refreshed and Alyia was a little better. Mical, Bao-Dur and Canderous Ordo were almost asleep on their feet, and Bao-Dur in particular was feeling the loss of his little remote rather strongly, so Atton had suggested they all go to bed, despite Mical's weak protests that he hadn't had chance to heal Alyia yet. T3-M4 and HK-47 had almost self deactivated as they roved around the ship, beeping loosely and incoherently in one case, speaking almost politely in the other, until the others had persuaded them the Exile was out of danger and they could recharge themselves.

So here he was, all alone in the pilots seat, barely able to keep his eyes open but refusing to shut them, afraid of what he might see if he did. His pale hands were operating on automatic, guiding the injured ship along the familiar tracks of space, cursing whatever had destroyed their engine. Without the port engine working correctly, a jump into hyper space could take them anywhere. It was too dangerous to risk it, especially if an end result might be them twirling in the empty voids of Wild Space, with a half-destroyed vessel that may well just collapse from the shock. He needed T3 or Bao-Dur awake and operational, but even they wouldn't be able to do anything if they were almost asleep on their feet –or wheels- so he'd have to continue fighting the loosing battle until one or the other revived. 

The ships guidance system was locked in on Telos; he couldn't shift them, even if he wanted to. Attons reasoning was that the navicomp must have taken a hit that jammed it during the crash landing on Malachor V, and didn't even want to think of any other reasons. He was far too tired. He could feel the Force, faint and distracted, as it always was when he grew sleepy. It got harder and harder to reach for… He was unable to suppress a yawn, the sound oddly loud in the silence of the cockpit, leaning back in the pilot's seat and almost jumping out of skin when a voice spoke, right behind him.

"You should get some sleep." It was the soft, almost cat-like purr of a voice that belonged to none other than Visas Marr. She was stood directly behind the pilot's seat, her concealed sockets focused on Atton's back. He spun around, pulling an irritable face,

"Will you stop _doing _that!" he hissed irritably, rubbing a bound hand over his face to rid himself of the small fright she had given him, "The old witch used to do that."

Visas' head tilted slightly- "I am sorry, Atton. That was not my intention. But I could sense your distress from the dormitory."

Atton looked at her suspiciously, and turned back to looking out the window, "Stay out of my head." He muttered darkly, leaning forwards and adjusting some levers, in the hope that the Miraluka would leave him alone if he looked busy. When she sat down in the co-pilot's seat, however, he knew he was wrong, and that he was in for some sort of interrogation. Again.

"Atton," her voice remained emotionless, gentle, a calming force to his pent up frustration. It only served to aggravate him more, "I was not in your head. Your distress is present in the Force that fills this ship. You are disturbing it." Her voice was slightly accusing here- she had, after all, been trying to sleep. Having your open, relaxed mind suddenly filled with waves of irritation didn't help towards making happy comrades. "Even your aura is on edge.""Stay out of my aura." He stated simply, shooting her a dark look.

She just looked across at him –or, well, so it seemed- benignly, not showing a hint of reaction. After a long silence, in which Atton shifted uncomfortably a few times, she said; "What is troubling you, Atton?"

Atton sighed and leaned back in the seat again, half shutting his eyes- she wasn't going to leave him alone until he said something was she? But why should he have to open up to someone who rarely spoke to anyone other than Alyia? Why should he tell her about the fears that had been mounting ever since they'd crashed into Malachor V? He felt sleep beckoning to him, but knew as soon as he slipped into the grasp of slumber, he'd be submerged in a world of nightmares that he wasn't in the mood to face. "Nothing." He replied, simply.

For a moment, he thought she was going to press the conversation, but she instead gave the smallest of nods and turned to look out at the vast expanse of space in front of them, falling silent. They sat like that for a long while, listening to the hum of the remaining engine as it doggedly kept the Ebon Hawk aloft and moving. Atton got the feeling that even though he hadn't said anything, Visas knew exactly what was bothering him… Damn Jedi's.

"You should still get some sleep." She repeated, after the long minutes had ticked by.

He didn't even look at her, blinking away the tiredness as he watched the tiny specks of stars and uninhabitable planets drifting by, "I can't sleep. This hunk of junk will probably give up if no-one stays awake with it. Or, knowing our luck, we'll end up floating in Wild Space."

He didn't want to face the dreams again. He didn't want to unwilling open a relaxed mind to the Force and to see the memories that weren't his, or to feel that empty, hollow, dead feeling of responsibility and guilt once again. After the nightmare that he had endured waiting for Alyia to return from the Trayus Academy, terrified that she might not return at all, he was reluctant to sleep lest he wake up and find it was all a dream, that Alyia was gone and nothing could heal the hole in his heart.

Visas quietly got up and, without another word or sound, her booted feet eerily making no noise as she left him and his waking nightmares alone in the silence of the cockpit.

_The Ebon Hawk, female dormitories_

"_Perhaps you were expecting some surprise, for me to reveal a secret that had eluded you, something that would change your perspective of events, shatter you to your core. There is no great revelation, no great secret. There is only you."_

A figure sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, utterly silent apart for the sound of her soft breathing. She was dressed in traditional, humble Jedi Knight Robes; a white tunic, shirt and breeches underlay, bound about by a thick dark brown belt. Over the top was a thick chocolate robe that spilled out behind her, pooling out across the metal floor in creases and waves. The figure's head was bowed, the bangs of her dark hair falling forwards into her closed eyes, her arms resting across her knees, index finger and thumb pressed together at the end…

_"… no great secret… There is only you."_

There was the slightest of stirs in her complexion; her attractive, pale face, so serene and calm, in a state of peace, twitched slightly, her brow furrowing momentarily, as though she was trying to solve a complex problem. Her fingers, though it was barely noticeable, started to shake slightly. Her breathing grew heavier, almost ragged, as though she was struggling with some inner demon._  
_

"… _There is only you…"_

Her eyes snapped open. Kreia – Darth Traya – whoever the hell she was – had been wrong. Those four words had shattered something inside of her far more than any great revelation ever could have. For three days, ever since she'd woken after killing Darth Traya, she'd been sat on the floor of the girls' dormitories, not eating, not sleeping, and not speaking. She'd been aware of people talking to her, of Visas and Mira occasionally moving past her to get to their beds or to the bathroom. Sometimes, they'd sat in front of her and meditated silently, but when she made no movement and no sign of stirring, they'd exchanged worried looks and left her to it. But now, at least… Now she understood what Kreia had been doing to her, and why the Sith Lord had betrayed her in the end, though the idea was difficult to digest.

_"…only you."  
_

Her mind, which had been a screaming mass of worries and thoughts for the past three days, was now crystal clear and peaceful once more. She knew, with a determined sort of clarity, exactly what she had to do; Revan understood that the galaxy was under threat from something that was much more advanced that Malak or the Star Forge, just as Alyia knew Kreia had merely been a stepping stone in a long, winding path of danger. And, just like Revan, Alyia knew she must help free the galaxy of this threat or die trying.

On the edge of her conscience, she could feel the bonds linking her to the other sentient beings of the ship, chaining their minds to her own, however faintly, so that she could feel their presence and their moods… Her companions were her weaknesses, just as Revan's had been. That much, at least, she agreed with… Having served under the ex-Dark Lord back in the war, Alyia knew why so many followed Revan into battle, understanding the bonds that the Dark Jedi managed to build between herself and relative strangers. They were the same bonds that Alyia fed off, drinking the power from her companions, like some sort parasite, or leech of the Force, in a way that would eventually destroy them. For that reason alone, Alyia knew none of them except the droids could accompany her search for Revan and the dangerous threat in the Unknown Regions.

She slowly unfolded her legs, wincing as the cramped muscles groaned and protested- sitting in the same position for seventy two hours straight could do that to you. She painstakingly rolled the knots of tension out of her legs, massaging the skin, before she carefully pushed herself to her feet. She felt sick and weak from hunger and dehydration, with dark rings around her eyes from lack of sleep as she took in the state of the dormitory; her bed was made and had clearly not been slept in since she'd first began her meditating. Visas' bed was neat, yet clearly slept in, and Mira's covers were sprawled across the floor, her pillows stacked high against the headboard and an empty glass of Caffa breeding its own supply of penicillin on the floor besides her bunk… A small smile crept slowly onto the Exile's face; she would miss them, certainly. She would miss Visas' calming, gentle need for guidance, she would miss Mira's roughness, hiding the insecurity within. She would miss coaxing the underestimated Bao-Dur to embrace his powers, and she would miss Mical's unquestionably devotion.

But most of all, she would miss Atton. She would miss his cocky, immature manner, his flirtatious quips and the brash way in which he told people exactly what he thought of them. She would miss the way she could soothe his insecurities, and she would miss the way her heart would skip a few beats when he flashed her his cheeky little smile… She would miss the way he'd stuck with her from the very beginning, the way he'd been her faithful companion as long as T3 had, the way he'd never doubted her orders, not for a moment… And most of all, she'd miss who she was when she was with him. She could only truly be herself with him; she felt she almost owed it to him, after the way he'd eventually told her about his shameful past…  
_  
"He has nothing to offer one such as you – and even a fool such as Atton is not so ignorant of that fact."_Was it Alyia's vivid imagination, or had that voice appeared as a whisper in her head without her thinking of it? No… Impossible. She must have just called Kreia's words back to her in thinking about Atton. No other reason… A small smile slowly crawled onto her lips, straining against her sore, chapped lips,

"But you were wrong, Kreia…" she whispered aloud, the words barely audible even in the quiet of the ship, "You were so wrong… You always were." She remembered Darth Sion's words, way back when they first met him on the Harbinger; _No longer do your whispers crawl within my skull_… So she wasn't the only one. Kreia would leave her alone, in time. She just had to work through it all… As though to comfort herself, her hands reached down to touch the hilt of her double bladed light saber, feeling the power throb just beneath her fingers. A silver blade… A true Jedi's weapon… A true Jedi. It was strange, how things worked out.

_The Ebon Hawk, Projection Room_

Her footsteps took her down the familiar paths of the Ebon Hawk, listening to the echoes of life that had once filled the ship. She could hear the voices of what seemed like the majority of the crew coming from the projection room, and made her way there, slowly undoing and re-braiding the strands of hair by her right ear as she walked, wondering how she was going to break the news to them all…

"We're about an hour away from Telos. Admiral Onasi already knows we're on our way; he's sending a welcoming comitee to greet us in the docks." This was was the brisk voice of Mira, currently leaning against the projection platform and staring thoughtfully at the binary script running beneath her. She was dressed in the padawan robes Alyia had invested in for her back on Iziz, her two lightsaber hilts hanging on either side of her hips. She looked older, more mature, than the bounty hunter Alyia had first picked up on Nar Shaadar, and her eyes betrayed the idea that she'd seen more than her years should demand.

"Whats the betting we all end up in the cells again?" this was Atton's contribution to the conversation- the rhetorical question carried his usual sarcastic manner. With a small skip of her heart, Alyia saw him leaning against the wall nearest her, his hair falling forwards into his eyes, dressed in his usual, ribbed jacket and breeches. Alyia hung back, staying within the shadows of the corridor just to watch him for a moment, keeping out of sight of the others.

"I don't think the Admiral wishes to throw us into the cells." Mical's puzzled voice clearly betrayed his lack of ability to think outside the box, or to understand a sense of humour if it bit him in the arse. He was standing besides Mira, his hand resting on T3-M4's head, who was beeping in protest. From her vantage point in the corridor, Alyia could see Atton roll his eyes,

"Of course not." He scowled, frowning at the Disciple, "He'll be all prepared to welcome our brave leader home after she's saved the galaxy. Of course, I didn't see /him/ volunteering to come with us to fight Darth Nihilus, or Sion, or that crazy old witch. No. He stayed tucked up all safe and cosy in Telos, which I might add we _also_ saved for him, and waited for us to either screw it all up, or to come back victorious. Either way, its not like he helped."

"The Admiral was deeply involved with Revan's victory over Malak and the Star Forge, Atton. Some say he even loved Revan, and she loved him. It was under Revan's orders that Carth stayed behind on Telos; she told him to 'keep the galaxy safe'." There was a pause, and a few whistles from the indignant T3. The voice continued, "Besides, he's already helped saved the galaxy once; this time was just the General's turn. And his work involving the restoration project on Telos soon got the planet back up onto it's feet." This calm voice belonged to Bao-Dur. He stood slightly behind HK-47, holding a hydrospanner and stained across his face and clothes with engine oil and burn marks.

"Yeah, but wheres this mighty Revan now?" Atton countered, sounding thoroughly irritated that someone had pointed out the flaw in his theory, "I don't see her here! She just ran away when things got bad, didn't she? It's pathetic. Any half-way decent Jedi would have stayed behind to make sure that the galaxy didn't get into any more trouble. But you can't trust a Jedi."

Alyia's breath caught in her throat at Atton's words, and the peaceful serenity that had overtaken her tired mind threatened to break… Darth Sion's words, so crackling and warped, drifted back to her through a sea of memories… _The Lord Revan had the chance to rule over an empire, to heal this broken galaxy and make it strong, instead she chose to surrender it to weakness, and she ran away._ So is that what they would think of her? If she took what Darth Traya had said to heart, and followed Revan into the Unknown Regions in search of this unseen threat, even Atton would believe she'd be running away? Well, she'd be abandoning them, true, leaving them to get on with their lives, but there was nothing the matter anymore! The galaxy had been saved! She'd defeated three Sith Lords to get them where they were, and there would be little to threaten them if she just went away for a little while…

The nasty, suspicious little voice that sounded surreptitiously like Sion in the back of her mind chuckled to itself, coldly, and whispered; _That's probably what Revan thought, too._

"Atton, you say you cannot trust a Jedi… But is that not exactly what you're training to be?" this was Bao-Dur again- as Alyia shifted slightly in the corridor, she could see the Zabrak properly in the lighting of the projection room. He couldn't wear jedi robes, like they could, but he had half-styled himself on them. He was wearing a dark blue Jedi-style tunic, with the sleeve ripped off over his biotic arm, tied about the waist by a thick belt, though Alyia could see he hadn't been able to part with his black work pants and boots… "And is that not exactly what the General is? Are you saying you do not trust her?"

Atton shifted uncomfortably, aware of everyones eyes in the room fixed on him, "Well, no, that's not what I'm saying… I mean, it's Alyia. She's saved my hide more than once on this journey… But she's not about to run off on us!" he defended, missing the point of Bao-Dur's argument completely. Alyia, listening intently, shut her eyes sadly… _Oh, Atton_…

Visas, the only sentient there who had not yet spoken, finally broke the awkward silence that had followed Atton's words. She was stood besides Mandalore, her head bowed as though in prayer, "I'm not too sure about that, Atton."

All eyes turned to the Miraluka. She did not seem perturbed, and lifted her head up slowly, staring at the wall straight ahead, and refusing to direct her sight towards any of them, "You must have all known that this could not be the end of it for the Exile…" she purred softly, "She has so much more to do, so many more things to save us from. To have three Sith Lords alive and ruling in the galaxy was surely a sign of things to come… It can only get worse for us. Revan knew this- which is why, against all reasoning, she left to the Unknown Regions… I often felt my… old master think of such things." Her exotic tones took on a strange factor, as though she was speaking from far away, "Revan formed links, much like the Master Alyia, to the companions who followed her on her quest. I learnt that… Kreia… told Revan of the weaknesses her companions would be if she were to go on a search for an unknown threat in the Unknown Regions, or the danger they would be in. I am unsure exactly what she said, but Revan believed her, and I understand the reasoning behind her belief. I also understand that Kreia would have explained the same thing to my Master… she will be leaving us, all too soon."

No-body spoke for a long time, listening to the steady hum of the newly repaired engines as the ship drifted closer to Telos… Alyia could hear her own breathing, all too loud in a corridor that seemed, suddenly, far too small for her… It was Atton who spoke first, with an uneasy, sceptical laugh, "Hah! Not Alyia. Revan was clearly touched in the head- Alyia isn't. She won't leave us, not after all this. She'll at least ask us to go with her- you can count on it! It'll be just another big adventure full of getting shot at, locked in cells, being betrayed and destroying planets. Pure Pazaak. Besides, its not like Revan had anything to stay for. The Admiral may be a dab hand with a blaster, but he looks a little like the whiny type, you get my drift?"

Visas' voice had lost some of its neutrality; she couldn't fathom how Atton could be so small minded about this. "Revan had plenty to stay for, Atton. Maybe even more than Alyia does." There was a meaningful glance exchanged between Bao-Dur and Mira, but neither said anything. Visas did not seem to notice; "but that didn't stop her leaving. I fear that, now she knows of this unseen threat, my Master will not stay for us. Any of us." Visas' shrouded face turned to Atton pointedly, but he was staring stubbornly at the floor. Alyia started to wonder whether her companions knew something she didn't.

"Alyia isn't Revan! She won't leave us! Did you all drink too much Jama Juice before this meeting or something?" Atton was clutching at straws, and the silence of the others proved that they knew it. "She just won't leave us!" Alyia could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and quickly brushed them away; a Jedi showed no emotion. Not even now.

Mandalore's brisk, operatic voice join in the argument argument, "Visas is right, Atton. Alyia will leave us, and soon. I travelled with Revan in her quest for the Star Forge, and there are definate similarities between the two of them. They fought together in the War, and in a way, they've never stopped fighting. Now that Alyia had percieved this new threat, nothing will stand in her way of helping rid the galaxy of it. It's the sort of person she is. Hell, all Jedi seem to act like that." He seemed to notice Atton's inner struggle, even though the pilot was just glaring angrily at the floor between his feet, for he added, "But she will come back to us."

"Just like Revan came back?" Mira asked coldly; to be honest, she actually sided with Visas' point of view, but Atton looked so forlorn as he leant against the wall, the colour draining from his face, and she'd never gotten along well with Mandalore. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "Look, we all know Alyia. She'll go, whether we like it or not. Nothing can stand in that girls way."

"I still don't believe that Alyia will abandon us." Atton muttered, not looking up at anyone, "We're all shes got!" _And shes all I've got… _he thought, sullenly, though that particular mental note remained tucked away inside, "She's not going to leave us. She just won't." he sounded so sure that he was even starting to convince Alyia she wouldn't be going, though she knew for definate she was, and judging from all this, the sooner she did so, the better…

"Well, why don't we just ask the Master?" came the soft whisper of Visas' voice; Alyia almost jumped out of her skin, recalling that the Force Sight could see through inanimate objects. Atton gave a small, mirthless snort,

"Because, my little Miraluka princess-" he quickly avoided the metallic footlocker that had managed to levitate itself threateningly by his head, "-_alright, alright_- because, _Visas_-" the footlocker lowered itself, "-she's still stuck in that Jedi trance of hers."

"Actually, my Master is awake, and has been for the duration of this conversation." Visas responded gently, matter-of-factly. As all eyes darted about the room, Alyia stepped out from the corridor, cursing that damned Sight under her breath- even more so at Visas' next words; "Master? We wish to know whether or not you will be leaving us soon."

Alyia was aware of every set of eyes in the room fixed on her; even T3 and HK, who hadn't much followed the trivial matters of the sentients and Mandalore, but who know something was going down, turned to look at her, T3 sliding forwards on his little wheels towards her, so that Mical, striving to look nonchalant, almost toppled over. She was aware of Visas' Force Sight fixed on her, and Mandalore's helmet was turned in her general direction… Most of all, though, she was aware of Atton's hazel eyes besides her, staring at her in complete disbelief, as she cleared her throat, avoiding everyones gaze, and began to retell them the story of what had occurred in Trayus Academy, "Well… you see, after we landed on Malachor V…"

_Telos IV, Residential 082 East, Apartment C3_

This place brought back a lot of memories. Really, this was where it had all started. Peragus had merely been the prologue compared to the sudden chapters of the story she was thrown into upon arriving on this planet. And still her tale was being written, the looped writing sprawling across the tattered page of her life, narrating on borrowed time; so this was the epilogue… The grand Finale.

Or maybe it was even Book Two…

Alyia had been welcomed like a hero… Well, they all had, to be honest; but the Exile, who had drawn to her a group of Force Sensitives in a time when everyone believed the Jedi had all but died out, was revered to be somewhat of a saint. Many on Telos knew of the Exile's part in the defeat of Darth Nihilus, the destruction of The Ravager and the salvation of the planet, if not about Darth Traya or Sion. She had stepped off the Ebon Hawk to a roaring crowd, the screams turning voices hoarse, banners fluttering in the atmosphere, all eyes fixed on her and her companions. It had been… overwhelming.

As for the after party; well, she hoped that, sometime in the future, the book of her life would let her look back and remember exactly what had happened that night. Up until now, it was going to great pains not to let her recall… She was sat cross legged by the foot of her bed, as she had so long ago, clutching the Cross of Glory that was hanging about her neck. The cold metal pressing against her skin was a reminder of all that she had done since she'd last been in here… It was also a reminder of how much she had to do before she could ever return again.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, staring out the window at the star strewn surroundings of Telos, listening to the buzz of city life and the occasional zip of a speeder as it flashed on past, that she didn't hear the door slide open. Even if she had, she would have paid it little attention; people had been coming to her for the past two days, seeking blessings and advice for the most trivial things. Still- they were very generous blessing-seekers, and she wasn't in the right sort of predicament to turn down credits where she could get them legitimately. The cost of damages to fix on the Ebon Hawk alone were more than she could possibly raise herself- it's a pity her fame didn't stretch to free repairs… And she had new supplies to collect, if she was serious about this mission- T3 and HK would need a clean up, as well, and she could do with some new robes…

"Revan waited a year before she left." An accusing voice broke through her thoughts- a small smile touched Alyia's lips. For the two days they'd been here, Alyia had seen little of her crew- even less of Atton, who seemed to have been avoiding her ever since she'd explained that she was leaving. The most she'd seen of him was at the awarding ceremony, where they'd had no chance to talk, and a tiny glimpse of him talking to Carth at the after party, as far as she could remember… She turned to look up at him, stood besides her door, and slowly pushed herself to her feet.

"Revan had things to sort out." She commented, moving over to her bed and neatly adjusting her robes, which were hanging over the foot board of her bed, then looked across at him pointedly, "I've got nothing to stay for. The sooner I leave, the better." She quirked an eyebrow at him…

Atton looked like she'd slapped him, "Nothing to stay for? What about all of us, who've travelled with you, and supported you, through this whole adventure? And what about our training? Whose going to teach us the ways of the Jedi once you leave? You said yourself that Atris has fled, the Masters are dead and you're leaving…"

"I will be back." She stated, softly, though she wasn't too sure about this- the threat outside the known regions might ensure she never returns… Atton took a few steps nearer to her,

"When?" he asked, his voice still accusing, to a degree where she found she couldn't hold his gaze. She dropped her eyes to the floor silently…

"Atton, listen to me. Theres no point in me staying. What can I do if I do stay? Settle down? Raise a family?" she pulled a face, though she didn't miss the expression that flickered over Atton's face. Having seen it, she wished she had missed it, but ploughed on regardless, "I can't just sit here, knowing that millions more could die as a result of me doing nothing?"

"Let Revan handle it! She's more than capable!" Atton scowled, taking another step nearer, until Alyia could clearly see the worry written in his eyes,

"She's been gone for four years, Atton. She might have found out what it is already. She might not be able to handle it. Either way, I need to go. I need to know!" She knew that if he asked her to stay there for him, she'd be going nowhere. The idea frightened her, though she'd never admit it, and she dropped her eyes to the floor instead of looking at him- as a result, she didn't see him draw closer until she spotted his jacket out of the corner of her eye, stood barely a foot away from her.

"At least let us come with you." He asked, softly… She shook her head, vehmently;

"I've already asked so much of you guys. I'm not about to place any more of you in danger. I don't want to be responsible for the death of any of you."

"Let me come with you." His voice was so gentle, so lulling, almost hypnotising… She wrapped her fingers into the corner of her tattered white tunic, avoiding looking at him- or at least she was doing, until she felt his hand press on her shoulder, making her skin tingle. "Please." Her insides burnt furiously, and she struggled to keep her Jedi complexion- this was going too far… She glanced up, and shrugged his hand off her shoulder,

"Atton, no. I must do this alone. I'm taking T3, HK and Canderous-" she held up her hand when Atton opened his mouth to protest, continuing before he could get a word in, "-because he is the only one of you who is not connected to me in some way. He will not be in anywhere near as much danger as you would be if you came with me."

"I can handle myself, Alyia! All this nonsense about having nothing to stay for… It's a pile of bantha fodder! You know as well as I do there are plenty of reasons for you to stay." His hands stayed by his side this time; he seemed to understand that, at least…

Alyia knew, of course, what she could stay for. She just didn't want to admit it to him, and she refused to let him know she knew what he was talking about, "Hah! Revan had a lot to stay for, didn't she? And still she didn't. She understood the importance of her duty… Atton, I have a duty. Just like her."

Atton's hands cupped either side of her face, tilting her up to look at him directly, "You. Are. Not. Revan. You are Alyia." There was a long pause- Alyia almost lost herself in the gentle mocha pools of his eyes, and it was only because it would be undignified that her knees didn't buckle. Atton leaned his head down towards her- not close enough to be touching, but close enough for Alyia to be able to feel his warm breath fanning against her face, "Revan didn't have me."

For a moment, just for a moment, Alyia seriously considered meeting those lips that whispered such flirtatious taunts, such unfunny and ridiculous comments… But she also seriously considered the consequences- going down that road would be disobedient to her training, not to mention she would fall into the trap Atton was laying out for her. They both knew, that if things went that way, she'd never want to leave again… She pulled her face free of his hands, stepping away from him, her eyes turning to look out the window, studying his reflection in the glass, "I have a duty." She repeated, quietly.

Atton said nothing, and Alyia didn't turn around again until she heard his footsteps grow fainter, heard the slide of the Apartment door, and the click as it shut behind him. Alone in her room, faced with the endless possibilites of what was going to happen to her life from that point on, Alyia closed her eyes, and gave the smallest of whimpers.

In the book of her life, the looped writing paused, and started on a new chapter.

**To Be Continued- **I know that this really isn't very interesting o It's just a prologue, to set the scene of what's going on before Alyia runs off to find Revan and save the universe again I promise the next shall be more interesting o Cross my heart!  
Reviews means updates o


	2. Chapter One: I will Follow

**Disclaimer**- If I owned Star Wars, I'd be harassing LucasArts to get on with making KOTOR III, not writing my deluded fanfics about what I want to happen xD  
**Notes**- Post KOTOR II fanfic. KOTOR I characters often make an appearance. Exile- Alyia. ExileAtton Pairing.  
Ahh! Sorry this took so long. I got caught up with Christmas and all that xO

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**Chapter One- I will Follow**

I will Follow...

I was on the outside when you said  
You said you needed me  
I was looking at myself  
I was blind, I could not see

A boy tries hard to be a man  
His mother takes him by his hand  
If he stops to think he starts to cry  
Oh why

If you walk away, walk away  
I walk away, walk away...I will follow

**"I will Follow" lyrics (c) to U2**

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**_Flash back_**  
_Dantooine, near the Jedi Enclave. The Grove _

_  
__Let us go back roughly eight or nine years, back to a time when the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders have begun their attack on the Outer Rim, back to a time before Revan and Malak had fallen to the Dark Side, before the Exile had been Exiled... Let our gaze fall upon the landscape steppe of Dantooine, ablaze in the afternoon sunlight, each shard of flickering grassland burning amber in the sinking sun, the river running as a liquid copper, highlighted by the lazy mango rays. In particular, let our gaze touch upon two female figures, leisurely sprawled out across a small rise in the ground. One of them, perhaps a year or so older than the other, is laid down leisurely, her head nestled into a comfortable mound of foliage, twirling a long stalk between her neat, firm lips. Loose black strands of her hair, which have broken free of the red-ribbon bound ponytail, fall in front of her dark jade eyes, which glitter with a determined fire and intelligence. A Padawan braid hangs down behind her right ear, the end of which, tied fast by a tight ribbon, rests against her robed shoulder, marking this girl as a Jedi Padawan, and a member of the nearby Enclave, which rears up against the backdrop of the sky in a sun-imbued glory. ___

_The second girl is not as relaxed as the first; she is sat up, her torso propped up from the ground by her elbows, her face turned to watch the river, which chuckled alongside them, winding an unknown, unchartered path through the planets surface, rounding the bends and eddying in on itself until it was lost from her sight... She is the younger of the two, and her face betrays that she is perhaps sixteen or so, though the youthful expression is slightly overcast by a troubled expression which has settled onto her attractive face. Her own black hair, shorter than the other girls, is bound by a thick gold band, matching the colour of the beads that tie the ends of her own Padawan plaits tight, which hang on either side of her head, just by her ears. She leans back slightly more, giving an exhausted sigh, her hazel eyes roving over to observe their surroundings. Two Horn Kath Hounds are grazing besides the mound upon which the two girls recline, sticking close, though the creatures are clearly disgruntled, which is no doubt to do with the fact that the two massive chocolate-coated beasts have actually been saddled by small, hardy leather seats placed just behind their shoulders. Make-shift bridles and reigns, expertly forged out of thin ropes, muzzle the two Kath Hounds' faces, looping around their horns and mouths securely. ___

_For a while, no sound is made other than the braying of Kath Hounds in the faint distance, or the click and hiss of Kinrath as they scuttle across the plains. The two girls fear neither; the creatures of the Dantooine plains had learnt long ago that it was wisest just to leave these two Padawan's alone, for the sake of the continuation of their species. If faced with the prospect of attacking Revan and Alyia together, a Kinrath would rather chew its own legs off, and a Kath Hound would simply run away before anything more ludicrously suicidal could be suggested to it. ___

_Neither girl knowing of their fate in the world about them, they seem at complete ease with each other, although the younger, Alyia, the Exile-to-be, seems more alert than Revan, the Dark-Lord-to-be, intently watching the life happening around her, feeling the power throb through the Force, whilst her friend reclines and gazes up at the sky, as though expecting it to do something interesting, with a look on her attractive face that suggests there will be trouble if it doesn't... It was Revan who breaks the silence first, still not looking over at Alyia, instead tracing the shapes of clouds as they drift casually overhead, ___

_"They should help the Outer Rim. It is not fair that countless die on the Outer Rim as a result of teachings." her voice was irritated, scornful, already marking the signs of her giving way to her emotions. Alyia doesn't seem to notice too much; Revan had always been like this, ever since they'd first met in the Enclave, and she'd become accustomed to it over the years they'd spent together. Though Revan was older, and that irritatingly smart-mouthed Malak was constantly hanging around her, Alyia and she got on like a house on fire... People screaming, burning, buildings on fire, emergency services racing around everywhere to find the source of the havoc... The two of them had become close friends, in the short amount of time they spent together without Malak interrupting, and had become the terrors of the plains- they could often be seen chasing each other on their pet Horn Kath Hounds in the early mornings, and sitting up late together in the Enclave Courtyard, just watching the sunsets and speaking of nothing in particular. Such was the deep bond that the two had formed between them with their remarkable talents that they could be mistaken for lovers, but it was not so- the two girls were just so close that they merely enjoyed each others company to a degree where they could forget all else, save the other. "Its not fair." she repeated. ___

_Alyia gives a small sigh, though she nods her head in agreement, her dark, exotic-looking hazel eyes flickering in the afternoon son thoughtfully, from behind loose bangs of her dark fringe, "I know its not... I can't help but start to think that... well; maybe the Jedi teachings are wrong. At least on this topic..." it was a difficult thing, to see your beliefs start to crumble about you. It was like watching your hero fall without a fight. ___

_Revan continues, knowing fully well what Alyia was thinking, and following the same trail of thought, "It's not like we don't stick to the Council's orders in normal circumstances." ___

_Alyia cannot help but smirk dangerously at this; after their years together, she and Revan were everything but obedient. They'd become the terrors of their Jedi Masters, and often questioned even the most basic, sacred of teachings, "Just like the time they told us not to go down to those caves, when they took us out onto the Wild Plains." ___

_"Well, we didn't, did we? We merely got lost from the group, and we wandered in there by accident. Its an easy mistake to make." ___

_"Don't forget that we also accidentally found all those credits and that expensive weapons cache buried beneath that big stone marker we accidentally knocked over whilst we were picking up the map that we dropped- the one that we accidentally found in that Twi'leks coat pocket in the cantina..." ___

_"Oh yes. I seem to recall we also forgot to tell the Council and Malak about that little discovery-" ___

_"-accidentally forgot, of course-" ___

_"-and I cant remember what we did with it all in the end." ___

_"We accidentally gave the weapons to Yvette, after we accidentally let slip what Master Zhar had said about her hairstyle-" ___

_"-How long did he take to recover, again?-" ___

_"-Three months, I think." ___

_"How long did it take us to finish cleaning the blood off the floor?" ___

_"Two weeks." ___

_"Good times... What about the money?" ___

_"We accidentally lost all the credits when we bet Malak that he couldn't eat through that steel table." ___

_"Oh yes, I remember. He sure showed us, eh? But at least we picked up all his teeth for him, afterwards." ___

_"Yes. Its a pity he broke his jaw, really, and the teeth were therefore useless, but no matter." ___

_"He bought that fancy steel jaw after that, didn't he?" ___

_"No, he got that done when I accidentally severed off his lower jaw with my lightsaber on Tatooine." ___

_"Oh yes... I remember. Why did you do that, incidentally? I always wondered. He won't tell me." ___

_"I thought he could do with a shave." ___

_"Really?" ___

_"No." ___

_"Oh. What really happened?" ___

_"He drank my glass of Jama Juice when we went down to the cantina, that time the Masters decided we could all do with some decent character-building. And then he denied it." ___

_"Ahh... Never get between a girl and her Jama, eh? I remember that trip. I got locked up in the Swoop Racing office cellar for a whole night before I remembered I could blast the door down." ___

_"But you were only locked in there because you said Master Vrook was a stupid senile old man, and if he was any good at this whole 'Jedi thing', he should have at least bet on the right Swoop Racer." ___

_"Well, its true! If he had the foresight that he claims he has, he should have known that that Swoop was going right down. I knew it was." ___

_"That's only because you made the engine fail halfway through the circuit. He would have won otherwise." ___

_"That Racer shouldn't have called me pulchritudinous. Stupid little Bith." __  
__"Pulchritudinous means beautiful." ___

_"Really?" ___

_"Yes." ___

_"Oh." a pause, "Never mind, anyway. You can't change the past." ___

_"It's amazing how you manage to stay top of your class with a mind like that." ___

_"It's a skill." ___

_"I'm sure." ___

_There is a small pause, and then a heartfelt chuckle on Revan's behalf, ___

_"Jama juice..." she shakes her head, a rueful smirk on her plush lips, "Still, he did get a very nice metal jaw, in the end." ___

_"He could afford to." ___

_"With the credits he won off us that we accidentally found in the cave that we didn't actually go to?" ___

_"Yes, those." ___

_There is an amused silence on both parts as they reminisce about their old times spent together terrorizing the neighbourhood. By the time they've run out of memories, sharing them mentally along their tight bond, the sun has disappeared below the horizon, twin moons now hanging in the dark night-strewn sky, spooling soft illumination along the grasslands, highlighting the two companions in a deathly, spectral glow. Alyia gives another small sigh, pushing herself to her feet, easing her legs slowly up to work out the cramp forming in her knotted muscles, "We should be getting back." ___

_Leisurely, with more grace than Alyia, Revan heaves herself to her feet, shaking her chocolate Padawan robes momentarily to rid herself of the clinging grass shards that hug to the material. She is about to start down the mound, to where the two Horn Kath Hounds are waiting expectantly, snorting indecisively to themselves and pawing the earth, regretting this mix-up with the two humans, when she pauses, jade eyes still upturned to the sky, "Alyia?" ___

_Alyia, who is halfway through the process of adjusting her Kath Hounds bridle and reins, which have become twisted in the hours they've been out on the plains this day, glances up, brow quirked on her pretty features, "Yes?" she questions, cautiously- she knows that tone of voice. Revan uses it when she's been planning something that is going to get them into trouble. ___

_"Will you come with me?" Revan sounds as though there was no other answer except confirmation to her question, and Alyia, though she didn't know what she would be agreeing to, felt compelled to say yes immediately- she doesn't, however, and instead just eyes Revan sceptically, ___

_"Well, I really think we should be getting back. The last time we were late in, I thought the vein in the side of Master Dorak's head was going to pop... And Zez-Kai Ell said that the next time we put Dorak in recuperational therapy he'll stop us staying out late at night. And that wouldn't be good; Dorak banned us from the archives after we set fire to the archives. Atris -you know Atris. White hair, white robes. Little stalker of mine- nearly had an apoplexy last time." ___

_"That wasn't what I meant." Revan follows Alyia down the mound, adjusting the tack of her own Kath Hound, petting the massive creatures thick centre horn lightly, "Me and Malak-" the girl took a deep breath, aware of the age-old enmity that ran between Malak and Alyia. (It had all started when Alyia and Revan, thoroughly bored one evening, had snuck into the male Padawan's dormitories and coloured in the lines on Malak's bald head when the Padawan had been sleeping, and then gently placed his hand in a bowl of warm water. Alyia had happily taken all the blame the next morning, persuading Revan out of confession, and had suffered three weeks of confinement to the Enclave alone before the Masters had relented in their punishment and given her free run of the planet again. All in all, Alyia thought it was all well worth it.) "-we're going to fight the Mandalorians. We can't just stand by whilst the Outer Rim suffers. Come with us- God knows Malak will drive me mad if it's just me and him." ___

_There is a long silence on Alyia's behalf, as she swings herself onto her Kath Hounds back, collecting up the rope reins and sliding her feet into the makeshift stirrups, tucking her legs more comfortably behind the creature's shoulder blades feeling the muscles bunch beneath her. Revan waits patiently, as she also pulls herself onto her own Kath Hand, holding the reins in one hand whilst she pulls the hood of her Padawan robes up over her head, casting her face into darkness. In the steady silence, the two Kath Hands picking their way back through the Grove at a steady trot towards the Enclave, their hooves unusually loud in the eerie nocturnal hush, neither of the two girls say anything else, with Alyia lost in a thoughtful silence, Revan in a patient, curious one. ___

_Finally, as the dim lights of the Jedi Enclave's guiding-lights up ahead begin to throw the surroundings into sharper relief, marking the beginning of the long path that they would ride up to the Enclave enterance, Alyia turns to look at Revan in the darkness, having reached a decision, and knowing to the full extent of her soul and being that it is the right one. "I will follow." ___

_Revan smiles faintly into the shadows, giving a small nod to Alyia, of gratitude and appreciation, of one craftsman to another... "Then I will lead." _

**_End Flash back_**

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Revan had never stopped leading. Ever since that day out on the Dantooine plains, she'd fought for what she believed in, and had made others die for it- she'd taken on followers, starting at first with the treacherous Malak and the eternally loyal Exile, slowly building up her support until she had persuaded most of her fellow Padawan's in the Enclave to deny their teachings and to go fight the Mandalorians on the Outer Rim... And then things had gotten dangerous for her. The feeling of power that clouded her vision, had driven her to her small but significant victories in the War, started to pray even more upon her mind. The more powerful she became, keeping up a rigorous Jedi training scheme for both herself and her fellow Padawan's, the more alluring the Dark Side became, until it haunted her every unwary moment, pressurising her to give in... She'd had the robes made long ago, back on Dantooine, and as she'd gathered even more supporters to her, rallying commanders against their initial cause and turning families upon themselves, feeding upon the superiority that was slowly awarded to her as each new person fell to her cause, she'd heard of the Star Forge... At first, many rumours had shrouded it in mystery and age-old dogma, but with painstaking patience and due care, Revan had slowly taken apart the myths to find the truth within- but even she had no idea at the enormity of the Star Forge's power...

Of course, she'd already discovered a part of it, back on Dantooine, when she and Malak had explored the old Ruins near the Grove, but back then, she had only a partial idea of the puzzle piece she'd found. She'd found nothing about it in the Jedi Archives, and it was only after 'accidentally' overhearing a conversation in the Enclave between two of the Masters that she'd picked up on the slight hint that there might be something in the Ruins worth finding- but no-one who had gone to investigate had returned... So the Jedi stopped wondering- but Revan wanted to know. It was a dangerous thing, that thirst for knowledge- it lead her to defy the Council yet again, and to locate the Ruins with Malak one day in her early years as a Padawan... Reflecting back, now, it might have been wiser to take Alyia with her, to take Alyia by her side as an apprentice, to let her in on the secrets of the Star Forge, but then again, it might not have. Alyia would follow so long as it was her own choice- but she, too, was a leader, which became evident as soon as she took her role as a General in the army- and she was more powerful than Malak ever had been. Whilst Revan would mostly likely best Alyia in a one on one fight, it would be a difficult battle and Revan would be weakened for days afterwards- the idea of having a strong Apprentice would not appeal to a Dark Lord. It was better to have one to manipulate, to test and to teach- but not to have as an equal...

Revan's path had lead her halfway across the galaxy and back again- the battles she waged against the Mandalorians required she move from planet to planet, sacrificing some and fortifying others, the initial quest for the Star Forge, taking her to planets both in search of the machine, and in search of information, the second quest for the Star Forge, forced upon her by Bastila and the Council, and now this... This journey that had taken her to the Outer Rims in search of a dark, unseen threat that lingered out of sight, using the Mandalorians like a pawn in a long game of Dejarik, something which she believed to be the True Sith Empire... Another of her beliefs she was willing to die for; only this time, she was alone. Alone... for four solid years, she'd been alone, with only the hum of her ship for company- and listening to the throb of an engine was not a particularly fascinating conversation... She longed for some sort of companionship, someone to speak to, someone to share the past four years with- and _/he/_ didn't count.

But there was no-one with her, except her memories, and, mostly, they were not of a pleasant sort. She tended to focus on the ones before the Wars, before her change, back when she was just a young Padawan, wreaking havoc across the Dantooine plains with Alyia or Malak- the happier memories, untainted... And, of course, there were the most recent ones- the second search for the Star Forge, the times she shared with her companions on that trip… Not having them here, not having them with her, was strange- she wasn't used to being alone. All her life, she'd had followers, companions, people to share all the burdens with, people to rely on… This new feeling of solitude was strange to her, and she didn't like it in the slightest. Revan was not meant to be alone.

As for her original companions? Well, when she left to meet Kreia on Malachor V, she left them each with tasks to do until she returned. Mission Vao and Zaalbar returned to Kashyyyk with Bacca's Blade to rule over the Wookie Clan after Zaalbar's father's death. Bastila Shan she sent to help protect the Republic, to help heal the wounds inflicted by the War. Canderous Ordo had gone to unite the Mandalorian clans together, so that they would forever be remembered. Juhani and Jolee Bindo were sent to the Outer Rim, to seek out Force Sensitives, and to teach them, quietly and secretly, away from hungry, prying eyes, in a new Academy... HK-47, who Revan had built herself, influenced and inspired by Alyia's actions on Malachor V with the Mass Shadow Generator, she had left behind with the Ebon Hawk at Malachor V with T3-M4... She would miss that ship. Ever since she'd taken it off the hands of Davik King, it had gotten her through hell and high water- she'd miss it almost as much as she'd miss HK's ridiculously amusing and blood-lustful comments. Almost as much as Mission's indignity at being called a child. Almost as much as Jolee's disgruntled nature. Almost as much as she'd miss Carth.

Their parting had been… painful. As she sat quietly in the cockpit of her new ship, The Metatron, watching the stars pass on by as it glided smoothly across the unchartered backwaters of space, she let her mind wander back to that parting night… She'd already given the others their tasks, given them her goodbyes, ignoring their pleas for her to stay behind, and there was only Carth left with her. They'd been stood on the surface of Dantooine, back to the place where it had all started, sitting side by side and staring out at the vibrant sunset, as she and Alyia had often done in their youth. It had been a glorious day, making it almost impossible to believe that she would be leaving known space soon- and that she would not be returning, no matter what she said.

Neither of them had spoken for a long while. She had told Carth long ago about her discovery of the remnants of the True Sith Empire when she had been a Dark Lord, and although he had protested, he had eventually relented to the idea that she had to go, to put an end to it, before the threat had the chance to attack the weakened Republic. Sitting there, in the stillness of the planet, feeling the wind brush across her face and knowing it would be the last time she'd ever walk across that planet, the one that held so many early memories, she had started to cry. At first, a few tears had curved slowly down her pale cheeks, silently, dropping slowly onto the pale material of her Star Forge robes, but after a while she'd had to turn away from the sunset, shutting her eyes as her body shook quietly. Nothing could have prepared her for the feeling of loss suddenly settling on her shoulders- nothing in the world…

Carth had said nothing, but he had noticed her tears, pulling her gently towards him and letting her bury her face into the chest of his clothing, his hands stroking down her back soothingly, holding her to him tightly. In a way, the silence had spoken a thousand words, and it was not long before Revan had ceased her crying, nestling against him more easily, enveloped in the silent warmth of his body. Looking up at him in the amber light of that sunset that turned his hazel hair to an amber gold, she reflected how strange it was that this was the man she'd fallen for… She, Darth Revan, who had become the Galaxy's greatest villain in order to become its greatest hero, victor of the Mandalorian Wars, betrayer, savior of the Republic more than once in her short lifetime, had fallen for Carth Onasi, decorated war veteran and legendary soldier, now an Admiral of the Republic Fleet. It was a strange turn of events, but there wasn't one day that Revan wasn't thankful for Bastila, in a strange way, for boarding her ship, and for Malak, in an even stranger way, for turning on her…

Seeming to read something hidden in her eyes, Carth had lowered his head to her and caught her mouth with his own, lips invoking such a forceful passion it turned her lips partially numb, though she didn't turn away. Her hands had curled up around his neck, eyes shut as she felt the salt of her tears mingle with the taste of him- and then he'd pulled back, breathing heavily, his rough hands supporting her gently by the waist, "I'll be waiting." He'd whispered, softly, before carefully moving her aside, standing slowly up, "Always." And with that, he'd turned away, starting down the steep incline they'd climbed to watch the sunset from, then across the plain. Revan had let fresh tears streak down her face as, still sitting, her fingers pressed to her lips to savour the last touch of his kiss, she watched the man she loved walk out of her life for good.

_Stop. There is no sense in living in the past._ Although the words arrived in Revan's head, they were not her thoughts. They had a dark value to them, one that swirled of wicked intentions and malcontent- the voice had been with Revan for the past two years of her journey. At first, she'd thought she was imagining things, the solitude finally driving her to madness, but as time went on, she knew it was something more- especially when she found_ /him/_… Angrily, she eased herself out of the groove she'd created in the pilot's seat of the small Metatron, leaving the ship on auto pilot and stalking down the corridors, bypassing the small kitchen and medical room before she reached the dormitories.

There were four bunks on the entire ship, and all of them were cooped up in this small room- only two of the beds looked slept in, the other two neat and pristine. Revan's bed was a mess; discarded hair ribbons of all colours lay strewn across the floor, as did a pile of her robes and clothing. A vibrosword was tucked under the bed, and a second utility belt hung from one of the bed posts. Datapads lay discarded here there and everywhere, but most importantly, on the floor besides a week-old plate of congealed food that was creating its own life forms, was a small photograph, framed and clearly well cared for. It showed the original crew of the Ebon Hawk in all their splendor, just after the battle for the Star Forge. She, Carth and Bastila stood at the front, their arms about each other, looking tired but happy, T3-M4 just in front of them, with Mission, winking and clutching her Cross of Glory, just behind them, besides the massive form of the indifferent Zaalbar. Jolee was looking off to the side, an agitated look on his face, in the process of shouting at someone, and Juhani had been caught in the middle of dropping her lightsaber. HK-47 was stood at the back, holding his blaster and looking threateningly at the photographer, and Revan recalled it was because the man had told him he wasn't very photogenic… Canderous was stood slightly apart from them, arms folded and a dark look on his face, clutching his Cross so hard he had indentations in his hand for months…

But I digress. Our attentions should really be focused on the occupant of the second bed- in all regards, it looked like a young, small boy, sleeping soundly between the covers. Of course, the innocence of the picture was taken away if you knew what Revan knew- that the child was just a shell, an anchor, to this world, and had been sleeping in the same trance-like sleep for just under two years. He never roused, never ate, never spoke, apart for the voice in her head, and even then, it wasn't the voice belonging to a child. It was a mans voice, deep and dark, whispering within her head and tempting her away from all that she knew… She'd found the child on one of the deserted planets she'd visited; he'd just been sat on an outcrop of rock, overlooking a deep ravine, and the only thing he'd said to her before he'd fallen asleep in one of her bunks was- "I've been waiting for you."

Revan couldn't fathom the child. She had no idea what his purpose was except to serve host to that disturbing voice, and she hadn't been able to find out who the voice originally belonged to, or what it was doing waiting for her. She crouched down by the edge of the bed- "I told you to stay out of my head." Her voice was a dark hiss- she had no love for people crawling into her head and settling there, even if it was from a small child.

_Then you should stop letting me in._ The voice had a curl of amusement about it, as it settled amongst her thoughts with complete disregard to her ears.

"I don't let you in." Revan growled, sitting back on her heels and glowering at the shut eyes of the boy, though in a way she did- she'd brought the boy onto the ship, let him sleep, and all throughout her journey, she'd been hunting for some sort of company.

_Believe what you wish. It matters not. _The voice now sounded indifferent, bored. The boy rolled over in his sleep.

"Why are you here?" she must have asked the question a hundred times and got the same answer every time.

_You will know, soon enough._ Yep, there it was. She sighed in exasperation, brushing loose strands of black hair back from her face.

"Fine, fine. Just stop going into my head." She didn't like the idea of someone else being able to read her thoughts. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't block the voice out her head- all her training, all her ability, meant nothing against this voice.

_The way you act is like you're ashamed of something I might find._ The voice was curious, and Revan was thankful- at least the… thing hadn't found the dark memories of her past, at least. It would seem it only had access to a few of the memories locked in her mind. _It doesn't matter, anyway. Your future will happen regardless of your past._

"And what is my future to be?" Revan was sick of this voice acting like it knew everything… The sleeping boy rolled over again, nestling more comfortably into the sheets, sitting back on her own bed, then standing back up again immediately, removing the half-hidden medpack off her mattress before dropping back onto the covers. __

That is one thing you cannot know. Know, at least, that you will not go through it alone. The voice sounded almost bitter, as though resentful of this fact.

"And who will I go through it with? You?" she pulled a face, leaning back against her headboard, "Forgive me for saying so, but that's not a very attractive prospect."

_Do not be a fool._ The voice hissed now, irritated at her ignorance, _I will not be with you. No… Another comes, following the path you have left for them. More follow. The War has not yet even begun for you, Revan._

Her heart leapt- another, coming after her? She sat up again quickly, hands twisting into the bed covers in anxiety, "Who? Who is following me? Is it Carth?" she couldn't keep the eagerness out of her voice as she spoke.

The voice resumed some of its mirthless humour, _No, not your Admiral. This is one follower who you have not spoken to in years… She fought with you in the Mandalorian Wars. It is only fitting she shall we with you for your Last Stand._

There was only one logical choice, only one loyal follower who she knew would follower her into the void- Revan couldn't hide the smile that crept onto her lips, even through the initial disappointment that it wouldn't be Carth joining her, "Alyia!"

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_Telos IV, Residential 082 East, Apartment C1_

There is a small portion of Telos that is new to the planet since the Exile first stepped foot there. The lack of entertainment, the complaints from people bored of the same old cantina scene, had driven the TSF to have a new night-life sector created, just off of the Entertainment Module. A wide array of clubs, resteraunts and bars had been opened- and perhaps it is just blind luck that the Exile was there for the opening ceremony of the new sector. She had, originally, been asked to cut the ribbon, but she declined the offer and instead let Lieutenant Grenn do the honour whilst she stood at the back and cheered with the rest of the crowd. It had been open just three days, but already it was immensely popular with the inhabitants of Telos- some of those who lived in the Restoration Zones even grabbed the nightly shuttle and made their way up. And all of that was fine with Alyia; she just avoided that corner of Telos late at night, to prevent drunken confrontations. Or at least she had, right up until the point Atton had invited her out.

He'd just sprung it on her one morning. They'd been sat in the cafeteria with the rest of the crew, just after Visas had left for Katarr, each of them morose and somber. Most of them had already been out to the new Sector, but it had mostly ended in disaster- Mical and Atton had got into a brawl neither would explain to her, Mira had woken up in Batono's apartment with no memory of the previous night, Bao-Dur had electrocuted the Twi'lek he had been talking to with a careless wave of his arm and Canderous had made a very long, touching speech about Revan, until someone hit him over the back of the head with a chair. Only Visas had remained remotely untroubled, though that would probably be because she passed out halfway through the night and Atton had to carry her back to the apartment.

The conversation had gone something like this;_ "Alyia…" Atton's voice sounded hesitant, as he glanced first at Mira, then across to the Exile. Alyia, who had been unhappily toying with her food, glanced up questioningly. "Can we… uh… Can we just… just go over here a moment?" he indicated a quiet corner of the cafeteria with his head, getting to his feet. Alyia was watching him sceptically, so she didn't see the encouraging wink Mira gave him. Thinking something must be wrong, Alyia gave a small nod, pushing himself off the plastic bench and sweeping after him, robes trailing like a modest train behind her._

"_What's the matter?" she slid herself into the new seat, opposite him, looking concerned, "If this is another lecture to try and make me stay, let me tell you---"_

"_No, Alyia, its not another lecture. Please, just listen." He glanced back at Mira again- this time, Alyia caught the wink the bounty hunter flashed him, and her suspicions grew. Before she could speak, however, Atton continued, "Look, you've been holed up in that apartment for days… We only see you at meals, or if theres a problem. You shouldn't have to spend your last few days sorting out other peoples lives…"_

_  
"Where's this going, Atton?" she already had a bit of a dark suspicion, and it was growing by the minute._

_Atton sighed, running his hand back through his hair, "What I'm trying to say is… well, we think you should go see what the new Nightlife Sector is like."_

_She gave a relieved little laugh, "Right! God, Atton, you had me worried then. Yeah, sure I'll come out. I need to relax a bit. So, a big group night out, you mean?"_

_Atton, who had become momentarily relieved after she'd agreed, was put on edge again, "Well, no… See… I was wondering…" his hand rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I meant… Y'know… Just… us two?" he sounded so desperate, and looked so forlorn, that Alyia felt she had to agree, even if her instincts warned her that this was all a very, very bad idea._

"_Alright." The smile that broke onto his face filled her with those damned little beastly butterflies in her stomach. She let her hands drop below the table, so he wouldn't see how much they were shaking- she despised the fact that just a smile could do that do her, "Alright." She repeated. "So… er… what should I wear?"_

Atton grinned, "Well, that dancers outfit you wore on Nar Shaddaa would---" he caught her look and quickly changed what he was about to say, "---would so /not/ be appropriate. But… No robes, okay? You won't die if someone actually sees a bit of your flesh, will you?" he grinned a cheek grin.

_Alyia rolled her eyes at him, then raised an eyebrow "That goes for you, too, I take it? That jacket could do with a wash." She stuck her tongue out at him and stood herself back up, glancing over at Mira- so, the bounty hunter had helped plan this, had she? Not that it mattered. Alyia needed some fashion help, and pretty damn fast. _

Mira certainly had helped. She'd immediately dragged Alyia off to her apartment, ignoring HK-47's alarmed protests and Mical's suspicious questioning, batting them away with her slender hand carelessly. She'd then subjected to Alyia some of the worst torture of her life- including the time those Mandalorian's had caught up with her on Socorro. For once in her life, ever since she was a little girl, Alyia literally let her hair down, though she fought tooth and nail for it. Mira then employed the help of some of the civilians in order to go through her hair and makeup, then forced Alyia into the tightest fitting dress she could find. It had been a very painful procedure, rather like having teeth pulled, but by the end of it, Alyia felt stunning.

Her dark hair, which hadn't been cut in a while, was divided into two sections once it had been styled. The lower half of her hair was left down, framing her neck and shoulders, whilst the upper half was pulled back into a carefully crafted bun. Her bang-like fringe was left hanging down, considering they couldn't tie it back, but they did push it to the side, so that it was diagonal across her face, concealing most of her right eye from view. The plaits were undone and left as tight curls either side of her ears, which had been painfully pierced for the evening (("Honestly, you can survive blaster fire, lightsaber hits and being stabbed with swords, but you complain at two small piercings?")) The makeup was next; since her eyelids seemed to have developed their own form of lilac eye shadow, they left those be, but did force layers of mascara and eyeliner onto her eyes to accentuate their size. Her face they left, considering she started to growl if anyone came too close with a blusher brush, but they did manage to put a light sheen on her lips.

As for the dress… Well, Alyia would have loved to know where the bounty hunter got her hands on it. It was a tight fit along the torso, a strapless lilac dress that had white and gold trimmings, but it flowed when it reached just past her hips. It clung to her waist, then split into two, revealing a long strip of the flesh on her leg, the wispy material paling in colour and texture, ending on the floor, trailing behind her as she moved. Her feet were forced into white and gold heels that she knew were going to give her blisters the size of pancakes by the end of the evening… and you know what? She didn't care. The reactions she got was enough.

When she walked out of their apartment, with the expectant Bao-Dur, T3, HK, and Mical waiting outside, she initially thought something had gone wrong. Bao-Dur, in the process of speaking to Mical, choked on the Caffa he was drinking, and the Disciple just looked stunned. T3 gave a low whistle and HK, though she couldn't see any change in his face, seemed disapproving.

"Indignant Statement- Master, I object. I cannot allow you to go out in this condition. I request to be allowed to join you."

Mira answered for her, glaring at the droid, "Shut it, HK. Atton is her escort tonight. You're not going. None of us are."

That seemed to startle Mical out of his respite, anyway, "You're dressed like that… for /him? And you're going /alone!" he shook his head, "I agree with HK, on this. You know what Atton's like…" he appealed to Mira silently. She ignored him.

Bao-Dur just chuckled at the antics of his fellows, "General, ignore them. You look amazing." That was pretty much a speech, from Bao-Dur. He turned to Disciple, placing a soft but firm hand on the Jedi's arm, pointedly, "We have some training to be getting on with, General. We won't wait up." There was a dark look from Mical, and the Jedi looked like he might object, but Bao-Dur gently lead him to a quiet place before things got dangerous.

HK shook his head, to the extent a droid could, banging his head on top of T3's chrome skull- the little astromech droid beeped in protest and flicked his little periscope-like gun, dislodging HK's hand, "Objection- Master, this is most unorthodox. It is my duty to protect you… Think of your… innocence." If a droid could sound awkward, HK would be that droid.

Mira gave a small burst of laughter, petting HK's copper shoulder, "Alyia can worry about her own innocence. Come on, you two. You can go with Mical and make sure he doesn't explode from shock." Mira gave her a small wink, "Atton should be here any minute. Have a good night." She sheparded the two droids, one bleeping, the other protesting loudly, out in front of her, after Mical and Bao-Dur, leaving Alyia alone, nervously clutching the small white and gold bag that contained her light saber- she refused to be without it.

Atton arrived only a few minutes later, dressed in a long black dinner jacket, dark pants and a thick, high-necked top- it sounded strange, as she thought it out, but the rogue managed to pull it off. He'd made an effort with his hair but it still lay unruly on his head, though to her, he looked fantastic. She gave him a bright smile, stepping forward and extending an arm to him, the dress curling and swishing about her legs, revealing the pale flesh along her limb.

It took her ten minutes to bring him back round.

_Telos IV, Entertainment Module 081, The Nightlife Sector, The Blues_

This... should not be happening. With her back pressed up to Atton's chest, head leaning against his broad shoulder, eyes closed at the comforting warmth of his body, feeling his arms wrapped about her slim waist, his cheek pressed against the side of her own, bodies moving slowly to the steady beat of the music, she knew for a fact she was falling in love with him… And yet there was no celestial thunderclap of disapproval, no unholy voice condemning her forever. She couldn't feel the Force protesting, or her entire being rejecting it. A small part of her that clung to the Code objected quietly, but it was shushed by all the other parts, who had deemed it to be right.

The night had been amazing. He'd taken her to eat at one of the restaurants, and not once did his eyes leave her- though it didn't make her feel uncomfortable, as it usually had. It had not been a particularly romantic restaurant, nor a particularly romantic conversation, but somehow, it had just been perfect. Not one mention of her inevitable departure had been mentioned, not even when she'd asked what he thought he was going to do with his future. He'd just looked at her with quietly sad eyes and shrugged, stating he'd 'think of something'. She'd then left that conversation behind, not wanting it to ruin their evening… And here she was, the two of them occasionally being picked out in the bright, flashing lights of the dark club, lost amidst a sea of other couples and groups of dancers, oblivious to all else except each other…

"Alyia…" his voice was a low murmur, but perfectly audible through the music. She half opened her eyes as she felt his head move, his lips next to her ear, brushing the strands of loose black hair, "Mm?" she replied softly, unwilling to break the small trance she seemed to have entered.

"Alyia, I need to tell you something." She could feel the tips of his fingers stroking against her hips, against the soft material of the dress. Alyia's eyes fully opened and she stared straight ahead, not liking where this was going… If he said what she thought he might say, it would jeopardise everything she was striving for- she wouldn't leave, if he said it. She turned slowly in his grip, not breaking the comforting circle of his arms about her, her own sliding about his neck, feeling the press of his body up against his own to such an extent her breath caught in her throat.

"Don't…" she whispered gently, eyes staring up at his surprised face, "Please don't say it…" she felt his arms tighten about her, his expression becoming slightly confused,

"But…"

"Atton, please, don't spoil this. Please don't…" she looked up at him with as much sincerity as she could muster- it seemed to work, and he softened his expression, relenting with a regretful sigh,

"Fine… But don't think I'll forget."

"I know you won't. And no doubt you'll tell me one day, but this isn't the time…" she buried her face into his neck, eyes shutting, feeling the slight shaking of his body- good. At least she wasn't the only one affected by this sudden close proximity, her finger tips running through the strands of his hair they could reach gently. One hand pressed softly to the side of his face, feeling the bone of his jaw as he spoke,

"When is the time, Alyia?" he questioned, softly, bringing her even closer against his body, their bodies still moving through the slow beat…

"Not now." She murmured, leaning her head off his shoulder and looking up at him, "But there will be a chance."

"Not if you never come back." He muttered, eyes downcast, staring past her.

"I will come back, Atton." She confessed, though they both knew it was a lie. His next question, however, surprised her, causing her to stare at him in mild bewilderment.

"What for?"

"What?"

"What will you come back for?" he asked, again, eyes turning back to her. She stared up at him- they already knew the answer, the two of them, though it was unlikely she would return.

"I can't answer that question, Atton." She whispered, gaze never leaving his own.

"Why not?" he almost whined- he clearly wanted to hear it as much as she wanted to hear him say it to her, though she refused to let him.

"Because theres no need. You already know the answer." That at least avoided her saying anything out loud- and it satisfied Atton, too, for the next thing she knew, his lips had found her own, cutting off anything else either of them had been about to say. One hand trailed up her back to cradle the back of her head, the other tight about her waist, her own arms securing their reach about his neck, eyes shut in the darkness of the club.

She had no idea how long it lasted, but it felt like an eternity, right up until the point he broke off, dark eyes clouded over with an unidentifiable emotion, breathing heavily. Her own lips were tingling with the sensation as she pressed one hand to her mouth, mimicking what Revan had done with Carth those years ago, and gave him a tight little smile.

"Alyia…" he started- she pressed her lips to his in a soft, butterfly like kiss, shushing him up. Speaking some inaudible language they both understood, his arms uncurled from about her, as hers did, his hand slipping down to intertwine with her own, giving her a indescribable look before leading her over the dance floor, away from the dancers and out of the club. Neither said a word as they trailed back through the silence of the Telos station, Alyia's heels sounding unusually loud in the quiet of the Citadel corridors, the dress fluttering in wispy strands behind her. A small smile crawled onto her face, matching the one flickering across Atton's lips.

The two of them only stopped at the orange door of Apartment A1, which was the Sector devoted to the male crew of the Ebon Hawk. Atton was still breathing heavily, hands curling on either side of her face,

"You're sure?" he questioned, quietly- the door opened with a small hiss, and as an answer, Alyia stepped inside, one hand pulling him gently after her, no longer caring for the Code or the remainder of her crew in the dorms around her. The door closed quietly, shutting them off from the rest of reality, and enveloping them in a warm, comforting world where desire ruled.

And in the morning, when Alyia awoke from a deep, dreamless sleep, Atton's arm curled loosely about her bare body and feeling his breathing softly fanning across the back of her neck, she knew that night had been the perfect way to say goodbye.

**To be continued**

Still sucky, I know. I'm sorry –hands head- But Alyia will leave next chapter, I promise- but don't worry, Atton won't give up on her easily.

It took me forever xD I kept getting caught up. Im really sorry.  
Reviews make Lintu more inclined to type x3

They also make her happy.

You want Lintu to be a happy typer, don't you?


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